


Cookies and Instant Regret

by redrioting



Series: iwa & friends & fantasy jazz [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Agender Akaashi Keiji, Agender Character, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fae & Fairies, M/M, Multi, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 12:52:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12507856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redrioting/pseuds/redrioting
Summary: Hajime should’ve known that the cookies were a trap.





	Cookies and Instant Regret

Hajime should’ve known that the cookies were a trap.

Honestly, shame on him for thinking that Sugawara Koushi is anything but a mischievous little shit. Despite all the years of friendship between the two, he still finds himself falling for his little tricks.

The day started off normally, a few simple deliveries from Kyoutani’s apothecary: dragon scales and phoenix feathers for the equipment at Yamamoto’s training studios, siren tears and gryphon clippings for several ceremonies Yahaba performs at the local tea shop, and the numerous poisonous plants the wood nymphs and sirens use in their cleansing rituals. They grin when they receive their deliveries and promise Hajime that they’ll be careful.

More recently, his delivery requests from Kyoutani have been to the little bakery that popped up a few years ago, and to the silver haired sprite that seems to have a strange interest in making Hajime’s life harder than it should be. 

The bakery this morning is a chaotic mixture of pixie dust, elemental magic, and witch familiars lying in the floating booths scattered around the bakery. He waves and greets some of the patrons he recognises: soft-eyed Haiba Alisa sitting next to her partner, Shimizu, and Michimiya, whose scales decorate the sides of her face and the corners of her cheeks, darkening in colour as she smiles at him. He passes two-toned hair and ruffles it, ignoring Bokuto’s yelp and pout in favour of crouching down by the bakery’s adopted cat: Kuro.

“Oi, what’s that look for?” he asks when Kuro avoids Hajime’s attempts at petting him. “Is this because I touched Bo’s hair before yours, hmm?”

The huffy-sounding meow is enough of an answer for him. Hajime chuckles and pulls out a small paper bag from his satchel. Immediately, Kuroo moves closer to him, mewling and affectionately curling his tail around Hajime’s leg. Hajime raises an eyebrow and lifts the bag higher, away from where Kuro was pawing at it in an attempt to open it and attack the contents inside.

“I see how it is,” he says, amused by the familiar’s expression. “I’m just wanted as your delivery boy, huh, Kuro?”

Two meows and several bite attempts later, Hajime walks up to the counter, calling for Suga.

Laughter rings in the background. Hajime has a second to drop into a crouch to dodge the spray of water shot in the general direction he was just standing in. Ink-infused droplets fall on him, each one spreading and staining his skin and hair, making him look like some flower nymph’s strange splatter-painted canvas.

He stands, blinking slowly at Suga’s cheerful expression, now behind the register. Suga looks pleased to see him (or the aftermath of the water attack), his grin having too sharp of an edge to be a smirk and his soft hazel eyes filled with mischief at Hajime’s expense. Behind Suga, Hajime can hear the familiar laughter of his best friend, and his expression sours.

He points at the blue splatter sinking into his arm. “That’s from a squid, isn’t it.”

Suga clicks his tongue and tilts his head with a smile. “Yup,” he says, popping the ‘P’ dramatically. “Only the best of the best is used at my bakery, Iwaizumi!”

He winks at the look he receives, and reaches for the paper bag excitedly. Hajime takes several steps back, biting back a smirk as Suga reaches across the counter’s surface, stomach pressed against the moving menu that wasn’t quite fast enough to avoid being flattened by Suga.

“Tsk, Hajime,” Suga whines, stretching his arms out enough to just graze his chest with his fingertips. “You’re meant to be nice to your employers, not an ass! You’re officially not employee of the month.”

Hajime hums and ignores Suga’s comment, opting to open the paper bag and pull out a tightly sealed jar filled with a thick, glossy liquid that reflects the light coming through the window closest to them. Suga pouts and makes another grab for it, only to be waved away by Hajime with a chuckle.

Suga pulls himself over the counter and lands by Hajime with an exaggerated frown, making more grabbing motions. In response, Hajime tucks the jar back into the bag and puts his other hand out, wiggling his fingers.

“Money first, then materials.”

“Definitely not employee of the month.”

[][][]

An hour later, Hajime sits between Suga and Oikawa, watching them chatter excitedly and narrowly avoiding Oikawa’s sneak attacks. He glares at his offender across the table covered in stacks of powdered sweets and cookies and jugs of tea and juice. Vines take up the remaining space, sneaking around the plates. 

When the water in his cup twirls into a thick rod and starts poking his cheeks, he growls out a quick “Oi, stop it,” and smacks it away. Oikawa sticks his tongue out and retaliates by twisting the water rod into Hajime’s hair, releasing his control so it splashes everywhere. 

“Why are you like this?”

“Like what, Iwa-chan?” he replies innocently, eyes widening to emphasise his act.

“A pain in the ass.”

There’s a whine from Oikawa, and before he can respond both he and Hajime receive a mouthful of leaves, some smacking their foreheads and noses. Suga smiles smugly at the two of them, eyes glowing softly and cheeks tinted violet, small flowers blooming in the curls of his hair and stray petals landing on the tip of his nose. Suga blows at the little petals and watch them float away.

“Now you’ve both had your fill of tea and cookies,” he states, retracting the mint leaves. Oikawa wipes his mouth with a tissue, glowering at his grinning friend.

“Tea wouldn’t treat us like that.”

“Hm, pretty sure it would,” Suga muses, biting into another cookie and offering one to Hajime. “I am a plant sprite, and I assure you, those plants wanted to do that for hours.”

“Rude, Kou-chan! Those plants love me.”

Hajime snorts in response to Oikawa’s words.

“I water them everyday!”

“Those types of plants don’t need watering that often, Shittykawa,” Hajime points out, petting the vines that curled around his forearm. “Plus, last time I checked, you nearly killed the ones over there.”

Oikawa waves a hand dismissively. “That was in the past, I’ve changed.”

“That was two days ago.”

“And what a long forty-eight hours it’s been,” Oikawa grins, sipping his actual tea instead of a mouthful of leaves. “I’m telling you, I’m a changed person, I care about others plenty to not accidentally kill them.”

Hajime raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment, choosing to drink some lemonade instead before reaching for another cookie. Something cold smacks his hand away and Hajime looks up to see Oikawa’s disgruntled look, ruffled hair flowing more than usual, his roots slowly liquefying until instead of soft, brown curls, Oikawa’s hair looked like crashing waves against sand, white foam tickling the tips of his hair where the waves looked most aggressive.

“No,” Oikawa says, eyes shifting from their usual warm brown to become colourless. “Not the last cookie; it’s mine.”

Lip twitching, Hajime leans closer, ready to snatch the last cookie off the plate even if it meant fighting a water sprite. He knows what’s at stake.Suga’s cookies are nothing to scoff about: they’re infused with properties that help with healing and clarity. The jar he’d ordered from Kyoutani just today is a special brew of calming agents that help others control their natural affinity to the elements, like Oikawa and his affinity with water, or Hajime’s with the earth.

Plus, the taste of Suga’s cookies itself are nothing to joke about. Suga has a remarkable ability when it comes to baking—it’s why his bakery is one of the most successful in Miyagi.

Before the two of them can fight for the last cookie, a leaf swipes it off the plate into Suga’s hand. He stares them both down as he smirks at their matching dumbfounded expressions, then takes a large bite out of it.

“Suga!”

“Kou-chan!”

Suga tsks at the both of them, finishing off the rest of the cookie and wiping away the crumbs, even as Oikawa gives him the stink eye and Hajime watches the empty plate with a resigned expression. When he hears Suga clear his throat he looks up.

“Chins up, spreading the sads doesn’t make money,” Suga chides, a grin lighting his face and the small buds in his hair opening with his charm. “Plus, I can always make more cookies.”

The two jump at that, eyes so hopeful that Suga nearly does a double take. His expression doesn’t change, though, and he taps his chin in thought. “If only I had the ingredients to make them, hmm.”

Oikawa grumbles under his breath and Hajime look turns suspicious. He knows that tone, he’s been friends with Suga for years to know that it means trouble, but in his desperation for more of Suga’s legendary cookies, he overlooks the tone. 

As such, Hajime finds himself at the city port, watching the last boat leave, a sigh following it as Hajime leans against a barrel, tapping his foot and fixing the strap of his shoulder bag, its leather worn and wrinkled from years of use; creases that tell of Hajime’s adventures. 

Adventures that have come to a halt because he just missed the only boat that can take him across the sea to the land in the sky. 

He knows Suga is depending on him to get certain ingredients from the neighbouring city, one surrounded by floating buildings and homes; roads made of lights and the shadows of flying dragons cutting across the plethora of colours below. Hajime also knows that if he doesn’t bring the ingredient and pass on the letter Suga wrote to the youngest Tanaka, he’ll be in trouble.

Somewhere in the city is an apothecary guarded by dragons and run by their riders. Hajime had once met the Tanakas. As a young boy, he’d been fascinated by they way they cared for their dragons, giggling when a small fledgling had nuzzled him. He grins, remembering the feeling of overwhelming happiness the first time he’d flown on a dragon.

 

Hajime is broken out of his thoughts when a stranger runs up to the edge of the dock and, seeing the boat in the distance, grumbles angrily to themself, accidentally sending a gust of wind in Hajime’s direction. The wind throws off Hajime’s scarf and smacks his precious cargo—mermaid scales—directly into his face. 

If anyone knows anything about mermaid scales, it’s that they are not meant to make any kind of contact with skin. Hajime’s face immediately flushes red where the scales had hit him, the skin prickling and burning. He hisses, doubling over as pain travels down the sides of his neck, as if poison-dipped claws scrape at him. 

The stranger stands there, momentarily frozen, mouth open in shock before seeming to realise exactly what just happened. They summon another gust of wind, this time on purpose, letting it whirl around Hajime’s head and cradle it with a touch gentler than Hajime would’ve expected, it glows softly as the stranger begins chanting something under their breath. He finds himself unwillingly falling away from reality, the sting prickling at the edges of his conscious, and when his eyes shut Hajime's knocked out.

Hajime wakes with his head in someone’s lap. The person, it turns out, is named Akaashi Keiji, who says the name almost apologetically as they help Hajime sit up. They look away as he gingerly touches his face, wincing in sympathy when Hajime sucks in a sharp breath.

“I was under the impression that mermaid scales are a rarity in this city,” Akaashi says, voice soft and willowy. “So why are you in the possession of some?”

Hajime, eloquent as ever, flips them off. Akaashi raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“I’m not sure if you’ve heard of the whole ‘trading’ business, but that’s a thing I was plannin’ on doing,” Hajime grits out. “Not like I can do shit now that the boat’s gone.” 

Akaashi chews on their lip, mulling over something while Hajime rubs at his face in an attempt to soothe the fading pain, groaning when he touches another sore spot, and feeling Akaashi’s gaze shift to him. 

“Hurts like a bitch if you wanted to know,” Hajime muttered, tapping at his thigh with one hand, the other digging into the ground until he feels a pulse of life from where he’s connected to the earth. He welcomes the familiar energy flowing through him; wills small roots to grow from below and press against the side of his neck.

It tickles him enough that he has to cover up a snort, but the roots move away quickly, brushing against the red skin in soft strokes as it retreats below again. He isn’t sure what spell Akaashi cast earlier, but most of the effects from the mermaid scales have been reduced. Despite all his time working with Kyoutani at the apothecary, Hajime is no genius when it comes to understanding spellcasting or magical properties.

He does know, however, that these particular roots have healing properties that counter any repercussion from magical sea materials. Sighing in relief as the tingling sensation slowly seeps away from his neck, being replaced by the icy sensation of the roots instead.

“Thanks,” he remembers to say after a minute. “Iwaizumi Hajime. Looks like we’re both stuck here until tomorrow.” 

Akaashi hums in response before tapping his shoulder. “Hey… I need to apologise for lashing out with my magic.”

Hajime shrugs and flicks a root at Akaashi’s face, laughing when their expression twists into surprise before turning to interest. 

“Are you a sprite?” Akaashi asks. Hajime tsks and the root taps their nose, until it scrunches up and Akaashi swats at it. 

“What makes you think that?”

Akaashi's eyes narrow briefly and they looks away to the sea instead. “Perhaps your scent; sprites tend to reek of their element.”

Hajime rolls his eyes. “Yeah, and witches smell oddly bittersweet. Strange thing, huh?” 

The two share a look, leaning closer until Hajime can practically see the magic swirling within Akaashi’s gray eyes—regardless of how dark and muted the colour is, the essence of magic is unmistakable.

“How about a deal?” Akaashi says, the corners of their lips curl into the beginning of a smirk. “I’ll get you to wherever it is you have to go, and you help me pick up supplies.”

Hajime cocks an eyebrow up, expression amused. “Why can’t you get those supplies yourself?”

Akaashi tilts their head to the side, hair rustling with restrained magical energy that buzzes in the air between them. “As you said, I’m a witch - and only a sprite can collect these specific supplies.” 

Hajime hums again. He leaned back on his arms and shook his head with a laugh. “You’re an interesting one, first you almost kill me—”

“I wasn’t trying to kill… maybe lightly maim but again—accidental.”

“And now you want me to help you with errands,” Hajime continues, pointedly ignoring Akaashi’s words. “Okay, say I go with whatever you wanna do, how exactly are you gonna get me to where I want to go?”

Akaahi’s smirk deepens and dread creeps up Hajime’s spine, the same feeling he’d felt after he agreeing to help Suga get ingredients for his cookies.

“Like you said, I’m a witch,” Akaashi drawls. They stand up and brush the dust from their trousers before waving their hand, clicking their tongue and making some strange sound. “And witches can fly.” 

There’s a rustling from behind Hajime and he looks up sharply to see a broomstick, dark and metallic-sleek, its bristles actual feathers.

“Why didn’t you just fly instead of wait for a boat?” He asks. Rolling their eyes, Akaashi hops on the broom. They wave a hand at the port as if the answer is obvious—it isn’t.

At Hajime’s blank look, they elaborate: “Why waste magical energy when there’s another method of travel?” They lower the broom until they levitate close to the ground, low enough for Hajime to get on. 

“So, do you accept my offer?” 

Hajime knows he shouldn’t, he really does, but his interest in getting more of Suga’s special cookies overpowers his judgement again, which is how Hajime finds himself agreeing with Akaashi. He quickly regrets this decision once he’s seated behind Akaashi, hands tightly gripping their waist as the two of them float three metres above the ground.

He’s reminded of his time flying dragons with the Tanakas—the only difference being that dragons don’t meet their riders by nearly killing them, let alone continue with near-death scenarios during flight. Hajime curses every being in existence for him meeting one Akaashi Keiji, whose attempt at “flying” involves moving at speeds Hajime is certain go against any aerial speed limit. 

Hajime finds himself nearly slipping off the broom rather than not, yelping and trying to tug himself closer to Akaashi as they loop around in unnecessary circles. They zip through the skies, the ground falling away in vibrant greens and muddy browns, the water shining even brighter from up here. It reminds Hajime of Oikawa, which reminds him how he even arrived at this predicament.

Hajime really should’ve known that the cookies weren’t anything but a trap. They’d better be worth all of this.

**Author's Note:**

> if u want do the yelly i love it >.<
> 
> catch me on [tumblr"](amajikies.tumblr.com) or [twitter"](twitter.com/mistakepng)
> 
> \- mack


End file.
